“I remember one time when I was a colt. A little, itty bitty colt who could barely spell his own name. I was a small colt, and I was sad, very sad, and crying because I was so sad, so very, very sad,” says a stallion over the dial radio.

The audience chuckles, but not a smile is found on Thunderlane's features as he stares at the Scientific Equestrian article he has taped in his notebook, with the now empty bowl of Dash's breakfast and his transfer paperwork next to it. He is no longer in uniform, and his eyes may be on the interview with Strongwind, but they are unfocused as he wanders through the words his mother spoke about Gale and his desolation. Overall, he is having a hard time seeing any kind of sadness and guilt in his father. All he sees is an ever present wrath that likes to rear its ugly head whenever it gets the chance.

“My grandpa, Celestia rest his soul, was not one to mince his words around kids. He put plenty of sugar on his sentences with a little cherry for the dots when talking to fellow adults, but kids? No, that old man carried a freaking brick and smacked us in the face with it when he talked to us!”

The stallion over the radio stomps his hoof to emphasis his point, and by that time, some of the ponies in the audience -especially mares- seem to be howling with uncontrollable laughter. Thunderlane, however, mindlessly turns the page of his book to look at the section about Compound 505, and the words “advanced healing” circled in thick, red ink.

“My gramps said: 'Oi, Butterscotch, why're ya cryin'?'. And I said to him: 'I broke my hoof, grandpa!'”

Now the whole audience seems to be dying from laughter, and Thunderlane stops and stares at the radio, scrunching his brow and wondering what the heck this comedian is talking about. From how hard and loud some of the patrons are laughing, he will not be surprised if one or two black out from lack of oxygen.

After almost thirty seconds of laughter, a cue to quiet down must have appeared since the noise level drops considerably, with the occasional giggle breaking the silence. The stallion continues with a deep breath seconds later.

“I said to him: 'I broke my hoof, grandpa!', and he just snorted and said: 'Big deal. It'll heal, just like everything else. All ya need is some ice packs, tape, a broom and some Scotch, and you'll be fine!'. 'But, grandpa! My bone is popping out!'”

Thunderlane takes a double take at that statement, grimacing as the audience laughs hysterically at the imagery of a colt with their bone popping out of their hoof.

“'Well, I'll put it back for you! Here, I'll even give you my cane so you can bite on it!'”

The audience is now roaring with laughter, possibly due to some stage antics or facial expressions that Thunderlane cannot see, but despite the glee from the audience, he still finds the act to be disgusting. How anyone can find that kind of abuse funny is beyond him, and so he changes the channel to another comedy station, he slouches on his couch, and completely ignores the words as boredom quickly replaces his moment of disgust. Seconds blur into minutes, and his eyes drift between his notebook, his mostly done transfer paperwork and Tank, then back to the paperwork and his notes.

“This is so much fun,” grumbles Thunderlane sarcastically as his hoof flips the pages of his notebook to land on the interview he saved of Trixie and her rehab. He sighs, stretches out on his couch, rests his chin on his hooves and looks at Tank, who is smiling lazily back at him, like he always does. “I bet you are having loads of fun, too.”

The tortoise blinks.

“Thought so.”

Another sigh leaves Thunderlane, and he shifts his body so that his forehooves are snug underneath him and his chin is lying on the arm of his couch. He watches Tank crawl across the floor in such a speed that makes him wonder why Rainbow Dash chose such a creature as a pet. The shelled reptile is slower than anything he as ever seen before, and Dash being the speed demon she is, he thought she would take something cool and fast, like a hawk or an eagle. Heck, even a hummingbird over a tortoise!

The locks on Thunderlane's door suddenly click, and he turns a lazy eye to his apartment's entrance, watching with a mix of depression and boredom as the mare he just thought about enters. Her uniform is a mess with some of her buttons misplaced, a big, dark spot on her uniform jacket and her hat crooked on her head. This is a cause of concern for Thunderlane, and he watches her with weary eyes as she stomps past him, fuming, and slams the bathroom door shut.

A rush of water echoes from the bathroom, and Thunderlane and Tank exchange looks before he slides off his couch and approaches the bathroom, carefully knocking.

“Rainbow, are you okay?” he asks.

“Just fine!” yells Rainbow Dash. “I just love having a drunk dump his drink all over me!”

Thunderlane blinks curiously, but before he can ask about the situation, the door is shoved open and Rainbow Dash stomps past him with her jacket soaking in his sink and her hat next to it. Despite her angry look, he can't help but think how cute she looks with her tight-fitting white shirt on. Though, that pleasant view does not last long since she storms into his room and slams the door shut before Thunderlane can say another word.

He takes a breath and walks over to his bedroom, then swallows nervously before lightly tapping the door.

“Rainbow, can I come in?” he asks.

“Don't be stupid! This is your room, you can come in whenever the heck you want!” replies Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane cringes. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that-”

The door opens and he is greeted with an up close view of Rainbow Dash's eyes. With his close proximity, he can see his reflection in her pupils, as well as the ceiling fan and the light hanging from under it.

“Have I ever told you how much your timidness pisses me off?” says Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane frowns. “And you're mad at me because...?”

Rainbow Dash's expression softens as she looks away with drooped ears. “Sorry, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at Filthy Rich. That guy was completely plastered and dropped his drink all over my uniform when he got all flirty with me again.”

“So, you're mad at Filthy Rich, but you got snappy with me? That makes total sense.”

Rainbow Dash snaps her focus back to Thunderlane, her eyes once again narrowed and sizzling from the annoyance inside her.

“You can be quite a dick, too,” adds Rainbow Dash. “You left the ceremony without telling me, and me and Fire Streak got worried because we didn't know where you flew off to.”

Thunderlane scrunches his brows. “Why? There was nothing to be worried about.”

“You worried us, anyway. I don't know what Fire Streak wanted with you specifically, but he said he needed to talk to you about something, and the last I saw of you, you looked like you wanted to stab that old guy you were sitting with in the face.”

“You mean my dad?”

Rainbow Dash tilts her head slightly. “You wanted to stab your dad in the face?”

Thunderlane's body becomes petrified and his eyes feel like they are going to pop out of his skull from how wide they have become. “No. I... Never mind.”

He hurries to his couch and Rainbow Dash goes back into his bedroom. Once Thunderlane plops down, Tank crawls towards him, but he ignores the large reptile and stares straight ahead, wondering if he carried that some murderous look with him to the hospital. He knows he was mad for his father's actions, and he's still mad, but he didn't realize that he looked like he wanted to kill him. Though, he tries telling himself that what Rainbow Dash saw could be an exaggeration. She does have a history of stretching the truth, after all.

“I ate a pickle!” screams a stallion suddenly over the radio, bringing him out of his thoughts with a jump and a missed heartbeat.

Thunderlane quickly changes the channel to a random station playing some song he can care less about, but it is not the dark comedy station where people laugh about kids compounding their bones. Rainbow Dash walks in front of him seconds later, wearing her old saddle and staring at him with an aggravated frown and drooped ears.

“So, you got any plans for tonight?” asks Rainbow Dash, her eyes wandering to the Trixie article in Thunderlane's notebook, specifically at the circled segment of 505.

“Sit here and rethink my life and everything I thought I knew,” says Thunderlane. He realizes where Rainbow Dash's eyes are, and he quickly slams his notebook shut. “Sorry, that's private.”

Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes.

“What are you, uh, what are you up to?” asks Thunderlane, nodding to the old, smelly saddle she is wearing.

Rainbow Dash shrugs. “Twilight and Rarity said that Pinkie Pie wanted to meet us at the Card Casino tonight before curfew kicked in. I figured I'd get there a bit early and try my luck at those slot machines. Why don't you come with me and get some fresh air? Heck, you could probably win big over there. They advertise those winners all the time, so I think we'd have a good shot of making some quick cash.”

Thunderlane shakes his head. “No, that's okay, I'd rather mope and rethink everything.”

“Mope? Dude, you won a medal! You should be celebrating and-”

Rainbow Dash suddenly stops, and at first Thunderlane is confused, but when he sees her eyes on his transfer paperwork, he quickly slams his hoof on top of it and makes a mess as he hastily flips it over. After he is done, his notebook is on the floor and his bowl is upside down, probably staining his table in the remnants of barbeque sauce. He looks at Rainbow Dash and offers her a very broad, nervous, face scorching, smile of pure innocence with sparkling white teeth and floppy ears. The blank look she has fades to a suspicious glare very quickly from his little stunt.

“What was that?” asks Rainbow Dash.

“Nothing,” squeaks Thunderlane.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“It didn't seem like nothing.”

“It was nothing.”

“If it was nothing then why did you make a mess covering it up?”

“Because... I like my nothings to be private?”

Rainbow Dash sighs and lowers her head to rub her brows. “Okay, fine, whatever, but do you want to go to the Card Casino with me or not?”

Thunderlane swallows and shifts uneasily in his seat. “Well, I... uh...” He looks at the upside down packet. “I can't. I got doodles to write.”

Rainbow Dash raises a brow at him. “What happened to the moping?”

“Writing doodles is a form of moping.”

“I don't think the transfer department would like you doodling all over their paperwork, though.”

Thunderlane's expression suddenly sours and he looks away from his roommate to glare at the paperwork under his hoof like it is all its fault. Seeing his look harden, Rainbow Dash's demeanor softens and she carefully steps forward.

“So, what's the deal with that? Why do you want to get transferred?” asks Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane grabs his packet and slips it underneath one of his couch cushions, ignoring the puzzled look on Rainbow Dash's face.

“I don't want to talk about it,” mutters Thunderlane.

“Why not?” asks Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane sighs and flops on his couch, specifically on the cushion above the packet. “I just don't want to talk about, okay? Go have fun and let me mope.”

“Let you mope? You've been acting weird all day, and this is why, isn't it? You're planning on abandoning our team! You're planning on abandoning me!”

“Abandoning?”

Thunderlane rolls off his couch and marches towards Rainbow Dash until he is almost muzzle to muzzle with her and points at where she punched him those many nights ago.

“Why do you care if I leave the team? You punched me in the face, Rainbow!” screams Thunderlane, and he stomps his hoof and a flares his wings, making her jump back and expand her own wings as she stares at him with eyes wide from shock. “You punched me and made a big deal about a rumor that you probably would not have minded if it was somepony else like Soarin or any other stallion but me! And now you don't want me to leave because suddenly I am so cool for doing my job?”

That last part of the statement makes Rainbow Dash cringe and coil back slightly, now finding it hard to look Thunderlane in the eyes. “I... I've been emotional lately.”

Thunderlane snorts. “Yeah, emotional. I wish I knew how to feel something other than disappointment. And you know what? You talk about me abandoning the team, but what team was I ever part of? It wasn't the team before Spitfire's. Oh no, I was Mister Rug or Madam Secretary. I certainly wasn't a part Spitfire's team. I know because Silver Lining said plenty! You can't abandon what you aren't a part of!”

“But Silver Lining is an idiot, you know that!” yell Rainbow Dash, her eyes becoming wet and red with tears as she points at the doorway as if the obnoxious sniper is standing there. “You are a part of the team, Thunderlane! You have always been a part of this team from the moment you walked in late with that armor all the way til now, and we all know that. We all need each other, which means we need you. I need you.”

“Why, so you can have a punching bag?”

Rainbow Dash's jaw drops and Thunderlane's snarl gradually evaporates to a look of horror. Seeing the pain in her big, wet eyes, Thunderlane's heart sinks into his stomach and both his ears and wings droop while the two ponies look at each other. He wants to say something, he wants to apologize, but the words are stuck in his throat. Panic sets in as Rainbow Dash back away, her pupils shaking with her limbs.

Why can't he apologize? Why is it so hard to apologize!? He wants to do it, but every step she takes away from him only makes the words harder to come out. It is like trying to cough out a stone lodged in the throat.

Thunderlane gets his hooves moving, but by this point Rainbow Dash has turned tail and is already at the door.

“Rainbow, wait!” calls Thunderlane.

“Enjoy your moping,” says Rainbow Dash.

She does not even look at him when she says those words, and as quickly as she opens the door, she slides out and slams it shut behind her. The gunshot-like bang of his door being slammed shut makes Thunderlane jump in his spot, and there he is left, alone with his radio playing music and Tank staring at him.

Seconds tick on by and Thunderlane expels a heavy sigh and walks back to his couch. Tank watches him the whole time, but he ignores the pet and pulls out his transfer paperwork from under the cushion. From there, he wipes off the ring of barbeque sauce from his tipped over bowl and starts filling out whatever part of the paperwork he has not done.

His mind is on autopilot for the most part. He hears the words and music of the songs, but he is not deciphering them, and he reads the words on the packet, but all they are are a collection of letters instead of a life changing move. Every check in the box, every written response, every signature, it is all just motions of his pen, completely meaningless to him at the moment. When his last box is checked and the last signature made, he spits out his pen and slouches on his couch, staring off into space.

Thunderlane can't believe he made Rainbow Dash cry. He already made his mom cry, and now this?

He knows he can do better than this. He has always kept a check on his emotions like a proper Hurricane, and now that he today has been a colossal failure on that he hopes he can make amends. Starting with his transfer and the mission to Bernese.

Thunderlane looks at the transfer packet, trying to think about what lies beyond his mission once it is accomplished if it goes through. No doubt there will be better pay and better benefits for guardians of high ranking officials, as well as more traveling. That might be a problem with Rumble, but Thunderlane is certain that he will be able to figure out something to help his brother while he is abroad with Signal Horn. That is if he survives the mission to Bernese, in the first place.

Thunderlane frowns at himself as he thinks about what his mother said about him possibly dying over there. It is not a thought he needs, but it is one that has resurfaced and quickly fills him with worry. If something happens to him, who will take care of Rumble? His parents never did, so why would they start now? And he left on a bad note with Flitter and Cloudchaser, and there is no way in the Seven Rings of Tartarus he will let Cloudchaser near Rumble again, anyway. Maybe Rainbow Dash will take care of Rumble, that is assuming nothing happens to her and she forgives him for making her cry.

Thinking about the next to nonexistent list of who will look after Rumble should something horrible happen to him sends a cold, depressing feeling all over Thunderlane. In that frosty cloud of misery, a single thought pokes its head out.

'I should have made some more friends.'

Thunderlane shakes his head and looks at his clock, seeing that there is a few hours left before curfew kicks in, and he starts to wonder if he has enough time to find the closest pony he has to a friend and at least apologize for making her cry. But, right as he is about to get up, he realizes two things. First, Rainbow Dash is going to the Card Casino, and that is where Trixie is, so he can at last get some answers from her about why he is seeing 505 everywhere. Number two, he already filled out his transfer work, but since the DOA hub is closed by this time he will have to turn in his packet tomorrow. That is no reason for him not to inform Brigadier General Signal Horn about his decision, though. It is only polite.

Forcing his sluggish muscles to move at a fast pace, he slides his transfer packet underneath his couch cushion again, puts on his saddle and slips his notebook inside. Then he goes over to his communications rig and uses pure momentum to dial those numbers, for any moment of pause will surely cause him to want to hang up and vomit from his nerves. Which happens as soon as the phone starts ringing. The more the phone rings, the more he feels that sickly feeling in the gut, like a dirty hang has reaches inside and is twisting the stomach like an indestructible water balloon. He wants to puke. He needs to puke. It's all too much!

“General Signal Horn's office,” says a mare on the other end.

Maybe he should say its a wrong number and hang up and call back tomorrow after he turns in the paperwork.

“Hello?” says the mare.

Though, that idea seems to be stupid on an epic scale since the calls are connected, so Thunerlane takes a deep breath and runs his hoof through his mane to keep his shakes down. “Um, yeah, hello, this is Airstallion Thunderlane Hurricane, and I-”

“Oh, I was told to wait for a call from you. Hold please.”

Boring tropical music starts playing right after the click, and Thunderlane frowns and sits on the floor, now rubbing his brow and wondering why he is shaking so much.

“Brigadier General Signal Horn speaking,” says the earth pony he met just a few hours earlier.

“General, sir, this is Airstallion Hurricane from the ceremony,” says Thunderlane. “I'm sorry about calling your office, but I didn't know if you'd be there or somewhere else.”

The Brigadier General chuckles on the other end. “I remember you, son. I may be old, but I can still remember what happened a few hours ago. So, have you called to give me a response to my offer?”

“Yes, sir.” Thunderlane swallows and looks down at the floor as if it will give him last minute advices or objections, but when it remains silent, he looks back at the blocky communications rig. “I accept your offer and will put in the paperwork for processing tomorrow.”

“Glad to hear. I'll pull my strings and get you on my detail as fast as time will allow.”

A small smile flickers on Thunderlane's muzzle. “Thank you, sir.”

“I'd be dead without you, so I need to be the one thanking you, Hurricane. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Yes, sir.”

The other end clicks off and Thunderlane sighs and tilts his head to look at his saddle. Only two things are left to do for tonight, and curfew or not, he's going to finish them. After removing his nausea via bathroom usage first.

Around forty minutes later, Thunderlane pushes his way through the entrance of the Card Casino and is immediately blasted with an earth splitting, eye gouging, seizure causing array of noises and lights. Everything from falling bits colliding into each other and falling to the floor with obnoxious ding-dings and strange celebratory sounds that remind him of strange whoops. Then there are the displays of everything from glowing decor ranging from sea-ponies to aliens, and wild west to mystical east, all matching the theme of the slot machines.

It is so stuffed with slot machines that he finds it a miracle that nobody has spilled anything yet. And with all the hundreds of ponies walking around as guests or employees wearing red or black shirts with card values stitched on them, he wonders how he will be able to find Rainbow Dash in this swarm.

“Sir, are you okay?” asks a mare.

Thunderlane jumps and stares at a mare he did not even realize was in front of him, and next to her is a unicorn guard wearing a suit and a radio pack.

“You've been standing in the entrance for almost two minutes looking a little brain dead,” says the mare.

Thunderlane swallows and looks at the guard, not liking the way he is clearly visualizing maneuvers to take him down if trouble surfaces.

“I'm sorry, I'll move somewhere else,” says Thunderlane.

He steps forward a pace, but the unicorn presses his hoof against his barrel, stopping him in his tracks while dismissing the mare that snapped him out of his trance.

“I need to see the contents of your saddle,” says the security pony.

“My saddle?” Thunderlane looks at his saddle, then at the leaving mare, and back at his saddle again. “Oh, my saddle. I got nothing in there but a notebook.”

“We'll see.”

The unicorn uses his magic to open the saddlebags and he removes the notebook and nothing else, but that does not stop him from zapping his saddle with another spell that makes it shimmer in the light for a couple of seconds. As soon as its done glowing, though, the unicorn grows a very disappointed frown.

“Just a stupid notebook,” says the guard to himself, then to Thunderlane: “You expecting to win big?”

Thunderlane shakes his head. “No, I just came to meet somepony, here.”

The guard hums and levitates the notebook back in Thunderlane's saddle. “Carry on.”

“Thank you.”

Thunderlane walks ahead, and the guard does not even wait until Thunderlane is out of ear shot until he orders other security officers to watch him using his radio. Knowing that he is now being watched, he sighs and shakes his head. They are in for a disappointing night.

Thunderlane has no idea how long he has been zigzagging through the slot machines in his search for Rainbow Dash. Everything looks the same to him, despite the different colors and themes. They are all obnoxious, visually and audibly, and everyone is so transfixed on their bits that some scream for pure joy of winning five after giving up thirty. No matter how many paths Thunderlane takes in the labyrinth of the casino, they all lead back to the stage and bar where ponies are sitting in either the darkness with little lamps waiting for the show, or crowded around radios in the bright bar to listen to whatever games are playing.

At the bar, Thunderlane stops by its entrance and scans the crowd, hoping to see Rainbow Dash's colorful mane, but he has no such luck. Huffing, he goes back inside the maze of money sucking machines, nodding politely to a security officer along the way and steering clear of the cleaner's cart that is being pushed by a zebra.

Thunderlane is about ready to call it quits and just find Trixie when he is by a racing theme section of the casino that he searched ten times already, but he figures what the heck? One more scan can't possibly hurt.

Taking a deep breath, he leans against a large slot machine with a stream of lights leading up to a large, fat bulb, all turning on and off, one after the other in rapid succession, like signal lights for a runway. That is when he sees Rainbow Dash sitting by a slot machine with an alien racer theme. She is still wearing her saddle and she looks bored pulling down the lever, and when a straight up flop comes up, she scoffs and slips another bit in the machine.

Thunderlane shakes his head and walks over to her, once again noticing a security pony watching him move through the seizure worthy displays of gambling games. When he is next to her, she has lost another round, and she is shaking her head as she feeds the machine one of her last bits, if the flat bag is any indication.

“C'mon, give me something,” says Rainbow Dash to the machine.

A green pony with an antennae, a silver saucer, and a equine skull roll up in the different slots and the machine makes an evil laugh as it flashes red with “Loser” lighting up above. Rainbow Dash screams and bangs her hoof against her evening bane's side.

“You dick!” yells the mare.

Thunderlane puts his hoof on Rainbow Dash's shoulder. “Rainbow?”

Rainbow Dash jumps in her seat to look at Thunderlane with enormous eyes, bristled fur and ruffled feathers. When she realizes that Thunderlane is, in fact, Thunderlane and not some other pony who sounds like him, she sighs and leans forward, rubbing her head and steadying herself against the slot machine as she deflates in her stool.

“Jeeze, Thunderlane, what the hell?” she says. “I thought you were moping.”

“I... I was. I've finished moping, now, but I wanted to apologize,” says Thunderlane.

Rainbow Dash looks at him with a raised brow. He can tell she has been crying, even if she won't admit it.

“About what?” she asks as she stuffs her empty coin bag in her saddle.

“I want to apologize about my behavior. It was wrong of me to get snappy about the transfer thing and for accusing you of wanting to use me as your punching bag,” says Thunderlane.

Rainbow Dash forces a chuckle and wipes her nose, sniffling. “Are you even listening to yourself? You sound like an overly mature foal talking to his mom.”

Thunderlane flashes a quick, uneasy smile. “I'm sorry, but I still want to apologize about what I did.”

“Thunderlane, there's nothing to apologize about. You were right to get mad at me for punching you and you should've kicked me out as soon as I socked you.” Rainbow Dash shifts uncomfortably in her seat, staring up at him like she is afraid of what he will say next. “Why did you let me stay, anyway? I know if I let somepony crash at my place and they punched me their ass would be on the curb quicker than they could blink.”

Thunderlane looks down. “I guess I didn't want to be alone.” He barely lifts his eyes to look at Rainbow Dash, like a miserable puppy begging not to be left alone in a life sucking blizzard. “And truthfully I still don't.”

Rainbow Dash nods and looks down at a random card stitched on the floor. “Yeah, being alone sucks.” She sighs, stands up and places her hoof on his shoulder and tilts her head up so she can look him in the eyes. “But if you want a special somepony, it can't be me. I'm sorry.”

Rainbow Dash's hoof slides off his shoulder and lowers her eyes to the floor so she can't see the disappointment and crippling sadness in Thunderlane's eyes.

“What? But, Rainbow, I'm sorry for snapping at you, I won't do it again,” says Thunderlane.

“That's your problem!” says Rainbow Dash, now standing up to look him in the eyes. “You're scared to get mad, and even when you are rightfully mad you apologize! I mean, I should not have gotten mad at you for wanting to do something better for yourself and I should have never punched you or gotten on your case about a rumor that nopony believed. That was my bad and I'm sorry for doing that to you, and you should be mad at me for doing those things.”

“But getting angry doesn't solve anything.”

“Yeah, and neither does bottling everything up.”

Thunderlane's vocabulary disappears, and apparently so does Rainbow Dash's, because as soon as she finishes those words, both ponies fall silent. All they can do is stare at each other or the scenery, trying to figure out who is going to talk first and what they will say. When Rainbow Dash takes the initiative to speak first by sighing, Thunderlane's ears perk and he looks at her after his eyes wandered to a happy pony carrying a large bag of bits in her mouth.

“Look, you caught me at a bad time. It's almost time for me to meet the others, but we can talk about this later in a more private place, okay?” says Rainbow Dash.

Thunderlane lowers his eyes, nodding and barely able to speak. “Okay.”

“Cool. I'll see you later, Thunderlane.”

And with those parting words, Rainbow Dash hurries away, leaving Thunderlane alone by the slot machine, feeling another failure taking a seat on his shoulder. He watches her leave until she is out of sight, then he watches the corner some more, hoping that she will come back. When the time drags on, though, and all he sees are gambling patrons and servants of the establishment making their rounds, he sighs and sits on a bench placed against the wall, running his hoof through his mane.

“Great. Just great,” mutters Thunderlane.

He sits there by the wall in total silence, loathing himself for pushing Rainbow Dash away watching everyone come and go, many smiling, but a few are frowning, with one downright furious. The furious pony has to be forced out by a group of unicorn guards who are using their magic to drag him to the exit.

“This place is rigged! Rigged I tell ya!” screams the stallion as he thrashes in their magical grips. The guards, to their credit, don't say anything to him, they only order patrons and employees to move out of the way, but it only makes him yell loud. “Where's Monte! Where's Trixie! I wanna give 'em a piece of my mind!”

Thunderlane watches with the growing crowd as the guards kick open the exit and literally throw the unruly pony out into the street, and he winces when he sees the nose dive that occurred because of it.

“You better stay out!” barks one of the guards. The said guard slams the door shut, then he turns and flashes an easygoing smile at the guests. “Resume your business, everypony. Nothing to see, here.”

The crowd reluctantly dissipates, all murmuring amongst themselves about what just happened, and Thunderlane sighs and slouches against the wall again, this time noticing a vintage picture of a younger Trixie performing on her portable stage framed directly in from of him. She looks excited and full of life, she is truly happy for performing in front of others, and seeing that little bit of joy brings a small smile to Thunderlane's face. Then he remembers that he needs to see her, anyway, and with his apology to Rainbow Dash being a complete flop, he hopes that talking to Trixie about the stalker number will produce better results.

After a good ten minutes of searching, Thunderlane finally finds a hallway labeled as “Administrative”, and spots an earth pony and a unicorn, both stallions, sitting in front of the entrance, behind the comfort of a simple, folding desk that has a large table cloth covering it. He really cannot see much beyond them, save for framed posters illuminated by fat light bulbs whose contents are blocked by the glare. The carpet is nice, too, with its stitches of cards leading up to the rooms like crumb trails.

Thunderlane looks at the guards again, noting how they are wearing dark suits and have radio packs strapped to them. He swallows, takes a deep breath for courage, then struts forward like how a proud and proper pegasus is supposed to be. His chest is puffed, his feathers ruffled and his eyes are locked right on his targets and by the time he gets there, he feels like a colossal idiot because they aren't even looking at him.

The unicorn guard off in lala-land and the earth pony has his attention devoted to his magazine. On its cover is a purple earth pony mare with a striped, light pink and very light pink mane and tail, sitting spread-legged on a desk with her butt as the main focus of the picture and a stack of books with an apple next to her. The mare has half lidded, alluring eyes, is licking a ruler for some reason with a smile and is wearing a loose, white shirt that barely reaches her flanks, which is hugged by black, flowery laced panties. So tight is the hug that it outlines her nethers, and behind her is a dirty chalkboard with various innuendos with the top of the cover displaying: Playcolt Magazine: Teacher Edition.

Thunderlane has to look away from the picture because he can feel his face burn up and more than just his wings stiffen, and the last thing he wants or needs is being dragged off for public indecency. The image is stuck, though, so he forces himself to think about why he is here. He is not here to ogle at scantily clad teachers, he is here to talk to Trixie about that evil number that is following him. It does not help much, since now Trixie is in place of that, but she has more of an evil smile and is holding a paddle instead of licking a ruler. He does not know how he should feel about this.

“So, then I said to the donkey: 'Look, do you realize how rotten this food is? This food is so rotten that a dead guy could eat it, burst into flames, and die again',” says the unicorn, bringing Thunderlane out of the fantasy he wandered into.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Thunderlane clears his throat and meekly calls out to them. “Excuse me.”

“Yeah, that sounds pretty bad,” says the earth pony guard, completely uninterested in his partner's story and oblivious to Thunderlane as he flips through his Playcolt magazine. His eyes widen when he gets to his next page, and he whistles as he turns it vertically. “Now that's a plot.”

“Um, excuse me,” says Thunderlane again in the same meek voice and giving them a nervous smile when they look at him with suddenly deadly serious expressions. “Uh, yeah, hi. I'd, um, I'd like to meet with Trixie Lulamoon.”

The two guards look at each other, then they look at Thunderlane, and he stretches his nervous smile as far as his lips will allow while simultaneously forcing his blood back to his brain and his wings to stay down. To put simply, it is very uncomfortable for him.

“Fanboy?” asks the earth pony.

Thunderlane shakes his head, his forced smile now gone.

“Reporter?” asks the unicorn.

Thunderlane shakes his head again. “No, I just need to ask her something.”

“But you aren't a reporter?”says the unicorn.

“No, sir,” says Thunderlane.

“How about an assassin?” asks the earth pony.

Thunderlane shifts uncomfortably. “No, I-”

“Are you with the government?” asks the unicorn.

“Yeah, but I'm in the Air Guard.”

“Ooh, aircolts? I like aircolts. I like airmares more, though. Something about those thighs and wings give me boners,” says the earth pony.

Thunderlane get a hot flash in his cheeks and ears, and he presses his wings tighter against his sides as he shifts uncomfortably in his spot, now thinking that this is probably a bad idea. From the magazine, to these questions, and the direction of the conversation in general, it is all bad and he wonders why anyone would hire a pair of guards like this.

The earth pony guard now flips the page of his magazine and as he turns it the proper way, he hisses: “Nice.”

The unicorn guard looks over and nods with a suggestive smile of his own, mimicking his partner. “Nice.”

“So, uh, can-can I go or...?” starts Thunderlane, hoof aimed limply at the hallway, getting both guards' attention again.

“Go where?” asks unicorn.

Thunderlane sighs heavily and droops his ears and eyelids. “Trixie Lulamoon. Can please I see Trixie?”

“Well, for one, its Trixie Fountain since she got married to the Magnificent Monte Fountain” says the earth pony while leaning forward and putting the adult material down. “And two, I'm thinking of a number between eight and sixty seven. Guess right and you can enter.”

Thunderlane's eye twitches.

Rainbow Dash stares at the metal door leading to a place labeled as: Stairway Minor. The door has a picture of an Ursa Minor sucking on a baby bottle, looking adorable for a carnivorous beast that can destroy a whole town if prematurely woken from a nap. However, underneath that picture is a not so pleasant written note taped to the door demanding one simple task.

CHANGE THE DAMN PICTURE!

-Trixie

Rainbow Dash sighs and shakes her head, not in the least bit surprised that Trixie would do something like that. A part of her actually misses the old Trixie, since back when she was a stage magician, all she had was an ego problem with generic tricks. Now she's got a bigger fan base, fights crooks for a high-life salary, and has her own palace in the form of a casino that gives her more money and she probably has an even worse self-adoration problem. But, not wanting to think about the annoying unicorn, Rainbow Dash pushes open the door and steps inside to see Twilight and Rarity already there, conversing amongst themselves in their attire from the ceremony.

“Pinkie Pie said she would be here,” says Twilight, a lit cigarette in her mouth and her one eye scanning the stairwell for any signs of the eccentric mare, completely unaware of Rainbow Dash stopping next to her. Twilight notices Rainbow Dash out of the corner of her remaining eye seconds later, though, and she nods in a welcoming manner to her. “Hey, Rainbow Dash.”

“Hey,” replies Rainbow Dash glumly.

“Do you think Pinkie forgot about us?” says Rarity. Then she sees Rainbow Dash next to Twilight. “Oh, hello, darling. I didn't see you come in. Got what you needed?”

“Yeah,” says Rainbow Dash.

“How could she forget the meeting she set up?” asks Twilight skeptically in regards to Pinkie Pie.

Rarity cringes and looks to the floor, stammering: “I mean, Pinkie has been awfully busy the past few weeks and ponies do forget things for time to time.”

“What's Pinkie been doing?” asks Rainbow Dash with a raised brow.

Rarity shrugs. “I don't know. She bought a lot of fabric and a sewing book from me a few weeks ago. She hasn't given me my book back, but she keeps buying more fabric and memory cloth from me. I think she might have developed a sewing hobby.”

“Pinkie doesn't sew.”

“She also doesn't disguise herself as another mare, rewrite her entire life, turn terrorists into super-vigilantes, and stop right-wingers from taking over the country,” says Twilight flatly.

There is a moment of silence between everyone, with Rainbow Dash and Twilight frowning at each other and Rarity moving her eyes between them curiously.

“Okay, so she might have developed a sudden sewing hobby to cope with whatever psycho-drama stuff she got because of that craziness a while back,” admits Rainbow Dash.

“I think you might be looking for post-traumatic stress disorder,” states Twilight smugly.

Rainbow Dash ruffles her feathers, her frown growing. “Really, Twilight?”

“I don't have that, but I'm pretty sure Trixie does,” says Pinkie Pie from behind Twilight.

Twilight and Rainbow Dash both yell and jump back with their fur and mane going up, and they both backpedal, with the pegasus hitting the wall and the unicorn hitting the other unicorn. The three mares stare at Pinkie Pie with wide eyes as she hangs upside down like a spider from a chubby gauntlet beneath her glittery, light purple blouse's bell-bottom sleeves. She is also wearing dark purple cape that she has clipped around her neck with a three-balloon pin, also sparkling in the light. The gauntlet on her hoof has a metal cord that goes all the way up to the ceiling, ten floors up, and is wrapped in wires. As much as Pinkie Pie has survived, Rainbow Dash still gets worried that whatever it is that she is using will break and she'll fall right on her head and spill her brains all over the floor.

“And I think you meant terrorists when you were talking about the guys I helped Trixie stop,” adds Pinkie Pie, now carelessly swinging herself back and forth, getting nervous cringes from everyone. “And for the record, they wanted to kill everypony, not rule them because Shock-A-Lot had a death obsession, which reminds me of a time when I died and-”

“Pinkie, get down from there before you hurt yourself,” interrupts Rainbow Dash sternly, her hoof extended and wings expanded, ready to catch her friend just in case the cord snaps.

“Did you forget who you're talking to, Dashie?” asks Pinkie Pie with a big, carefree grin.

“No, and that is why I'm telling you to get down before I make you get down.”

“Oh, fine. Party pooper.” Pinkie Pie twists her body so she is standing on her hind legs, then she presses a button on her device that looks like two arrows pointing backwards. There is a click, followed by a more distant clank and Pinkie Pie motions everyone under the stairs. “You guys should probably get back or you might lose an eye.”

Twilight scowls for just a moment, but when she and the others look up and see a set of metal claws falling their way, they scurry under the stairs. From there, they watch with wide eyed wonder as the grapple zips down from the ceiling, and they jump in their spots when the metal claws hit the floor with a metallic thud! After that, the rest of the cord is eaten up inside Pinkie Pie's device and it locks itself with a click when she slips a red slider over the top. The Element of Laughter then slides her bell-bottom sleeve over the gauntlet, covering it perfectly and grins at her friends while proudly showing off her covered device.

“Viola! It is nearly perfect!” cheers Pinkie Pie

“Pinkie, what is that?” asks Twilight as she comes out of cover with the others.

“A homemade grapple gun made with the finest quality clearance items money can buy. Pretty cool, huh?” replies Pinkie Pie cheerfully.

“Why did you make a grapple gun?”

“I was bored and wanted to swing around from roof top to roof top as-” Pinkie Pie twirls and covers half of her face with her cape, saying in a horrible impersonation of the Spanish accent “-Countess La Pinkie de la Pia!”

There is a moment of silence between the mares as they inspect Pinkie Pie's getup from their spots, and that moment is broken by Rarity and the unimpressed frown that comes with her voice.

“Fascinating,” says Rarity flatly. “But now that we are here, what did you want to tell us?”

Pinkie Pie holds up her hoof. “First. Congrats on your new medal, Dashie!”

Pinkie Pie grabs Rainbow Dash and stands on her hind legs to squeeze the pegasus as tight as she can. Rainbow Dash's eyes bulge and she gaks as she squirms in the earth pony's grip, feeling uncomfortable pops traveling all up and down her spine, and since her wings are stuck in the grip, she really can't go anywhere. All Rainbow Dash can do is squirm and fruitlessly push her hooves against Pinkie Pie's chest.

“Th-Thank's, Pi-Pinkie,” says Rainbow Dash between her strained grunts. “But ca-can you let me go? I-I think I'm gonna SNAP!”

Pinkie Pie drops Rainbow Dash right at the end of her sentence, and the pegasus falls on her rump, gasping for breath and flapping her wings to get the blood flowing again. She sighs with relief when everything seems free of breakage, and stands up to shake away the rest of the pain that came because of Pinkie Pie's death hug.

“Secondly,” continues Pinkie Pie. “I am going to be going on a super duper, very extremely, utmost-ly secretive assignment of brobdingnagian proportions that could mean the difference between ultimate doom or a big shiny rainbow after an ugly storm.”

And she leaves it at that. A cliffhanger.

The other girls stare at the Element of Laughter, each waiting for her to continue, but she just stares back at them with a broad smile. The seconds tick on by, and Twilight's curious look dissolves to a frown, Rarity coughs awkwardly in her hoof, and Rainbow Dash looks at her hoof to check the time. Only to remember that she has never owned a watch.

When the silence reaches the ten second mark, Twilight removes the spent cigarette from her lips and grinds it into the concrete using her hoof. “Care to elaborate?”

“Absolutely!” blurts Pinkie Pie. “But first we need to go somewhere without echoes.”

It takes a couple of minutes to find a place suitable for Pinkie Pie, and when she shoves them all in the broom closet, Rainbow Dash she sees a pair of young stallions watching them. Before the door slams shut, the pegasus sees their ears perk and their eyes grow excitedly, and all she can think is: Great.

It is just her luck that she tries so hard to prove to everyone that she is not a lesbian, only for Pinkie Pie to shove her and her other friends who just happen to be mares inside a closet with colts watching. Only Celestia knows what they can be thinking now.

And speaking of thinking, Rainbow Dash thinks she might have a panic attack very soon from how cramped it is inside their hideout. The four mares barely fit inside with all the racks of cleaning chemicals, brooms and mops, and wet-floor signs. In fact, with the brown coloring and dim light, the place almost seems completely dark inside! And they are so crammed that Rainbow Dash can barely move without feeling a tail, clothing or mane.

“Okay, now that we are stuck inside the janitor's closet, what's this secret mission you're talking about?” asks Rainbow Dash, grunting in aggravation as she moves to find a spot where she is not rubbing against another mare. The mission proves futile.

Pinkie Pie gets a large, conniving and toothless smile that stretches across her muzzle, and she motions all of them closer. Once all of their faces are pressed together in front of Pinkie Pie, she leans closer to them until their muzzles are almost touching.

“I know where Applejack is,” says Pinkie Pie in a hush-hush kind of tone.

Rainbow Dash's eyes widen and she loses weight from sheer excitement filling her up like helium. She has not seen her gambling and all around dare buddy for over a year. In fact, now that she thinks about it, she hasn't seen Applejack ever since Pinkie Pie's fake funeral!

“Forgive me for being skeptical, darling, but how could you possibly know where she is? Nopony has seen Applejack ever since Twilight's coltfriend and his goons took her away,” says Rarity, also looking excited, but cautious at the same time, much like Twilight.

“Glimmer's not my coltfriend!” hisses Twilight, her smile replaced with a pointed look aimed at Rarity, even though the area around her ears and cheeks darken. Various looks of skepticism meet her and she bumps into the wall behind her when she tries backing away from her friends. “He's not! We just work closely together... Besides, it was Brisk Wind that did that to Applejack, not Glimmer.”

“First name basis, huh?” teases Pinkie Pie.

“Shut up!” snaps Twilight. “And Rarity's right, how can you possibly know where Applejack is when the government can't even find a trace of her?”

“Do you want me to talk or stay quiet? Becuase it's hard to do both.”

“Pinkie!”

“Oh, all right, yeesh. Let's just say Fluttershy found Applejack and now they are hiding out in some little town near the Equestrian-Neghico border. Now, my super-secret mission that you guys don't know about will be to find Jackie and apologize about what happened to Big Mac so we can be friends again and restore the Elements to their full power! See? Easy secret job.”

“Hold on a sec. Fluttershy is with Applejack? I haven't seen her in forever!” says Rainbow Dash excitedly.

“How come she contacted you, but not me?” asks Rarity hurtfully. “I thought we were close.”

Pinkie Pie puts her hoof on Rarity's shoulder, offering a small sigh. “Rarity, sometimes saving a nation together brings ponies closer together than day spa trips.”

Rarity's rump falls to the floor, and her mouth hangs open with a loud whine as tears form in her eyes, but no one really puts much thought into her drama. Especially Rainbow Dash.

“So, Pinkie, since you're going down south, does that mean you'll be moving a lot?” asks Rainbow Dash.

Pinkie Pie frowns. “Noooo, it means I'll be sitting in my living room, playing chess with Joe all day. Which reminds me.” She looks at Twilight. “You still owe me ten more games of chess.”

Twilight sighs, her whole body drooping due to a stream of predicted defeats. “I know, Pinkie, I know, and I will beat you one of these matches.”

“Forty and counting, just remember that.”

Twilight groans and Rainbow Dash smiles with relief as Rarity pats Twilight's shoulder sympathetically.

“Awesome. That means you can keep an eye on this forged note I got until I can find somepony who can prove that Fuller-” Rainbow Dash's smile turns to a glare aimed at Twilight “-used it to try to kill me with a bomb!”

Pinkie Pie opens her mouth to say something, but closes it when Twilight stomps her hoof with an angry groan.

“Oh, don't start that again!” says the Element of Magic. “You know as well as I do that Glimmer is innocent.”

“Innocent my ass!” snaps Rainbow Dash. “That psycho has been trying to kill me ever since I punched him in the face!”

“He's not trying to kill you or anypony! He's trying to protect everypony from danger!”

“He is the danger!”

“Girls! Girls! Stop!” says Rarity over their bickering as she squirms her way between them. “Arguing is not going to get us anywhere. Twilight, I know you are very fond of Fuller, but even you have to admit that he can be quite unsettling at times.”

Twilight sniffs and turns away from Rarity, grumbling under her breath, and Rarity looks at Rainbow Dash, who is now sporting a smug smile.

“As for you, Rainbow Dash, you can't go around making wild accusations just because somepony gives you the creeps,” says Rarity.

Rainbow Dash's smile disappears in an instant and she sneers at Rarity as she ruffles her feathers. “Seriously? I got all the proof I need that he's evil right in my saddle, but until I can find somepony to look it over without them winding up dead or too spooked to do it then I'm screwed with these 'wild accusations'.”

Rarity frowns and extends her hoof as if she is expecting a token of some kind. “Fine. Then give me the note and let me look for Fuller's traces.”

The three other ponies look at Rarity skeptically, especially Rainbow Dash. She knows Rarity has a knack for detail, but forgery is not the same as stitching pieces of cloth together and gluing diamond specks on a hat.

A few seconds of silence later, and Rarity drops her hoof and releases a loud sigh. “I wasn't exactly a star child growing up, you know? I did forge signatures to go on field trips and write parental excuse slips or doctor notes so I didn't have to go to school, among other things I'd rather not discuss.”

Three jaws and two and a half sets of eyes now go limp and bulge from the unexpected confession of the most prim and proper pony of their group. Seeing their faces only makes Rarity uncomfortable, and she tries backing up to escape the attention she did not necessarily want, but all she gets is a rump full of metal shelving and cleaning supplies.

“I had a very troubled childhood, okay?” says Rarity defensively. “But if we can ignore what charges I may or may not have, I can prove Fuller's innocence or guilt if I have a sample of his writing, as well as Twilight's. If Fuller really did forge Twilight's writing to lure you into the bombing, then a trace of his style is bound to have seeped in.”

Twilight's shock disappears with an annoyed groan and face-hoof. “Ugh, I can't believe this.”

Rainbow Dash's demeanor relaxes somewhat, now feeling a little better since she has someone she can sort of trust to have a look at the note. However, not wanting to flaunt her victory too much, she grins and pats Twilight on the shoulder.

“Look, Twilight, think of it like this, if we do that comparison thing and it proves that Fuller is innocent, then I will leave him alone and never bug him again. Junior Speedster honor!” says the Wonderbolt.

“Uh huh, sure,” mutters Twilight.

Rainbow Dash slips off her saddle, grabs it with her mouth and gives it to Rarity.

“Here, the note's inside, but you can just take my saddle. It's kinda old, anyway,” says Rainbow Dash, her voice muffled by saddle straps.

“Er... Thanks.” says Rarity.

Rarity hesitantly grabs the saddle with her magic, seething and keeping the item at hoof's length to inspect the stains and poor stitch and patch jobs. She mentions something about it smelling like a mix of body odor and barbeque sauce, but Rainbow Dash thinks she's making it up since she hasn't smelled anything from her old saddle in a very long time. Not that she says her disagreement verbally since she does not want to argue with the high maintenance unicorn about an imaginary scent. Besides, she has bigger fish to fry.

Rainbow Dash groans obnoxiously and stretches out her legs and wings as much as they can go, forcing the three mares to squish themselves against the racks.

“Well, this closet bonding has been fun, but now I gotta go and find Thunderlane,” says Rainbow Dash, meeting their annoyed stares with a thin smile.

“Ooh, Thunderlane is here? How's he doing?” asks Pinkie Pie.

Rainbow Dash shrugs. “He's close to having an emotional meltdown, but other than that, he's fine.”

“Is his mane still soft?”

“...Eh, I really gotta go and find him before he does something stupid.”

“What can he possibly do around here that will get him in trouble? Just let him roam around and enjoy himself for the night,” says Rarity, pushing down Rainbow Dash's wing so she can look at her and adding with a wolfish smile: “Unless you're worried some other mare will snatch him.”

Rainbow Dash rolls her eyes and resumes a proper, tight space friendly stance. “Very funny. But I don't care about that. I'm just worried because he's been acting weird all morning. Like, I cooked him breakfast and he freaked out about it, then he was in his own world for a long time, and then he left the ceremony party pissed off. Like, no joke, that old coot he was talking with before he left, I thought he was gonna stab him or something! Then when I dropped by his apartment, he snapped at me for asking about his transfer and then he followed me here trying to apologize! I've never seen him like that before, so, yeah, I'm worried and... and...”

Rainbow Dash's voice drifts off and she looks at each of her fellow Element Bearers. All three of them are giving her strange looks. In Pinkie Pie's case, she has a devious, bedroom eyes expression that Rainbow Dash is afraid is suggesting something other than what it was. For Rarity, she has a blank look, as if the idea of the most amazing pegasus ever born cooking breakfast for someone who deserves it is a form of calculus. Then there is Twilight. She is also confused, but has her eyebrow above her remaining eye raised, and she also looks suspicious. Confused and suspicious.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” asks Rainbow Dash, shifting in her spot and looking at each of them as an uneasy feeling runs up her spine.

“Why did you cook Thunderlane breakfast?” asks Twilight.

Rainbow Dash cranes her head back, screaming in aggravation. “Oh my gosh, are you kidding me!? Why is everypony acting stupid about breakfast!?” She snaps her head back for a face hoof, seething. “I was only trying to be nice and he freaks out about it, and now you guys are doing the same thing!”

“I'm pretty calm, actually,” informs Pinkie Pie. “But, maybe Thunderlane isn't used to breakfast in bed. I know Joe isn't and when I made him a big pancake breakfast in bed, he was all speechless and whoaaaaa, and I was all like: 'Yeahhhhhh'.”

Pinkie Pie grins suggestively at her friends, waggling her brows and nodding slowly, too. Her friends stare at her with various degrees of confusion for a few seconds before Rainbow Dash frowns.

“I didn't cook him breakfast in bed, though. It was all on the table,” says the pegasus.

“Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” suggests Pinkie Pie. “I know I get grouchy when I wake up on the left side of my bed.”

“He sleeps on the couch.”

“The wrong side of the couch, then.”

“I'm being serious, Pinkie!”

“Something's probably heavy on his mind. Do you have any idea what is bugging him?” says Rarity.

“No,” sighs Rainbow Dash. “Well, maybe. I mean, he said he didn't feel like he was part of the team, and he got all weird when I looked at this notebook he filled with junk about some five-oh-five number and all these weird connections he probably imagined.”

“No way! Are you serious!?” says Pinkie Pie excitedly.

“Uh, yeah. Why would I lie about something like that?”

“I have no idea! But if he's being haunted by five-oh-five like Trixie was, and probably still is, then I am ninety nine point nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine nine percent positive he's going to be seeing her to figure out what's going on.”

“Pinkie, you just can't throw numbers out like that,” says Twilight deadpanned.

“You can when you're me!” Pinkie Pie suddenly grabs Rainbow Dash's head, making her cheeks puff and her body stiffens, and she turns the captured pegasus to the door with her hoof extended. “Now, onward, my cuddly, blueberry, rainbow missile! We got ponies to find!”

And they leave in a flash, leaving the unicorns behind and slamming the door shut before either of them can think or take a step.

Twilight and Rarity stare at the closet door, not really understanding what just happened. As far as Twilight is concerned, Pinkie Pie is going back to her old self after the fiasco revolving around her and Trixie's insane adventure. It is refreshing, in a way. However, that still leaves Twilight confused by Pinkie Pie's antics and her sudden excitement about a random number that she is sure she would know about if it held any significance.

“So... How are your magic tutoring sessions with Trixie going?” asks Rarity casually, bringing Twilight back to Equus.

Twilight scuffs the floor with her hoof, huffing angrily. “A big pain in my-”

Click.

Thunderlane jumps from the sudden noise and turns from observing a vintage poster hanging on the office wall of Trixie in her traveling magician days to see none other than Trixie herself.

Or, the new Trixie.

The new, big, buff Trixie with muscles not meant for such a small body, covered in bruises and scabs with tired, near black bags around her eyes and a mane barely kept in check.

The two stare at each other, each with differing expressions. Thunderlane's mouth is sealed shut and his pupils are like tiny dots and his heart rate is jacked from seeing a mare that looks like she can crush his skull with her bare hooves. Trixie, on the other hand, is giving him a tired, defensive glare. He also spots the subtle twitches in her muscles and can see her eyes barely moving to analyze him for potential weak points should he be a complete dumb-ass and attack her.

So, there they stand, completely silent, one nervous to near self-wetting, and the other waiting for a confrontation. Finally, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Thunderlane flashes an anxious smile and extends his hoof in greeting to Trixie. This causes her to flinch.

“Hi, my name is Thunderlane,” he says, his voice shaking with nervousness.

Trixie snorts and starts hobbling past him, not making any attempt to return the gesture. “That's nice.”

Thunderlane inspects his hoof for any signs of gunk or other unfavorable things, but when he sees nothing, he lowers it and looks at Trixie crossly. However, that look changes to worry when he sees her limping around and realizes just how extensive her injuries are. They cover her whole body, from head to rump, and he also realizes that she has thick pads taped to her ribs with gauze. Thunderlane knows he would be grumpy, too, if he was in her condition and had to meet somebody instead of resting.

“Are you okay?” asks Thunderlane.

Trixie stares at him, but when he motions towards her collection of injuries, she snorts dismissively and continues limping towards her desk, wincing slightly with each step.

“Its nothing that concerns you,” she says. “Have a seat.”

Thunderlane sits in the guest chair while Trixie eases herself down in her larger, throne-like, rolling chair and uses her magic to pop open a container of pain pills and a bottle of hard cider kept in her desk. She tips the pill container in her mouth as if the contents are candy, then she takes a big gulp of her drink and gasps loudly while relaxing in her chair. It takes her a few seconds to realize that Thunderlane's eyes are about to explode from how wide they have gotten.

“So, what do you want?” says Trixie condescendingly. “Is somepony giving you crap and you need me to curb stomp them for you? You kinda look like a rug to me, so I can actually see that.”

Thunderlane shakes his wide eyes away, stammering: “Oh, um, n-no. No, I'm actually here about the number five oh five.”

Trixie's eyes narrow. “Buddy, if this is some kind of joke, you're just asking to get your ass kicked.”

“No, this not a joke, I swear!” says Thunderlane with a wave of his hoof. “I just need some answers about the number five-oh-five, and you've said it 'stalked' you when you did that interview at the rehab... place...”

Thunderlane's voice drifts away when he observes Trixie taking out another bottle of pills, this time from a white container with a basic picture of a joint. Just like with the other pills, she eats a liberal amount like a foal with a candy stash and takes a large swig of her drink, gasping loudly when she is done.

“I thought you were rehabilitated,” says Thunderlane carefully.

“It's called 'relapse', genius,” sneers Trixie as she puts the pills away. “And I don't need shit from anypony about this, much less a pegasus that knows nothing about me. But to answer your question about the doom number, yeah it stalked me, but if you paid attention then you would know that it was some mental thing to help find a pattern in the insane bullshit I got myself into.”

“But you don't understand, I'm seeing this number, too! When I was on tour and my unit got ambushed, I saw it. When I was in training, it was everywhere. Cloud five-oh-five was my unit and I have an apartment number of that same number. I was even at the stadium bombing and that number was the date and in the address!“

Trixie shrugs. “Sounds like a horrible string of coincidences.”

“But you said you were stalked by the number five-oh-five, and now this number is going after me, too!” says Thunderlane in a panic. “Please, you have to help me understand what's happening to me! Why am I seeing this number everywhere!”

Trixie sighs and rubs her head. “Look, I can't tell you why you are seeing this number, alright? I have asked numerologists about that stupid thing and there is nothing significant about it. I even tried using it for the pick-three lottery thing and...”

Trixie takes a swig of her drink and Thunderlane stares at her, confused and slightly annoyed that she is leaving on a cliffhanger like that.

“And... What?” asks Thunderlane, careful to keep his tone free of negativity since it is obvious to him that Trixie has a hair trigger.

Trixie puts her bottle on the table. “I won five hundred bits and put that into Braille's college fund.”

Thunderlane's body droops with disappointment, and Trixie snorts and looks at a hanging picture of Monte smashing a slice of their wedding cake against her face.

“I'm more confused about it than you are,” reiterates Trixie. “I doubt even Celestia knows what the deal is with that stupid number. My guess is that the universe is just screwing with us and you're just another victim of this sick joke.”

“No it can't be a coincidence,” says Thunderlane. He removes his notebook from his saddle with his mouth and puts it on the table. Trixie arches a brow, but proceeds to pick it up and flip through it, quickly becoming interested in what he has found so far. “The Celestial Spire is on five-oh-five Magic and the Stadium is on five-oh-five Kindness. Both had a terrible thing happen to them.”

“And you think something is going to go down at the Rich Apartments on Generosity or that big bank on Honesty?” asks Trixie skeptically without taking her eyes off of the notebook's contents.

“No... Maybe... I don't know! All I know is that a lot of bad things have happened with that number. Like the Lulamoon Monastery, fifth of May, over five hundred refugees were killed by griffins. Dozens were killed in the Celestial Spire last year. And this year, nearly fifty were killed and injured in that stadium bombing on the fifth of May on five-oh-five Kindness! Then there is Roam. Historians believe that the city held five hundred thousand zebras, and it was completely destroyed in a second by a meteor. That number is everywhere! It can't be a coincidence!”

Trixie shakes her head, still flipping through the pages. “Yeah, but the whole Spire thing was in January, and I think those archeologists put the destruction of Roam in June-ish. That puts your whole cosmo-conspiracy theory in a pickle.”

Thunderlane sighs in defeat, knowing she has him there. Any ounce of inconsistency can throw out any and all theories, regardless of the vast amount of favorable evidence towards it, that much he knows. But, even with that depressing news, a part of him clings to the twisted hope that there is more to the Spire, Roam, and 505 than meets the eye.

“What's this Compound Five-Oh-Five thing?” wonders Trixie.

Thunderlane snaps out of his depression spike and looks at the notebook now floating in front of him. He notices that she is on the Scientific Equestrian page, and Thunderlane has to think for a moment to get his gears turning again.

“Doctor Good Strongwind claimed he could make a long lasting healing serum using natural herbs found here, in Roam and Bernese,” says Thunderlane, cringing on the inside as he remembers the odd dream he had about the scientist. “But he never got the grant because the Starswirl Society thought his theory was, I guess, stupid.”

Trixie hums, closes the book and levitates it back into Thunderlane's pouch. “You got a lot of stuff in there, Thundergrain.”

“It's Thunderlane...”

“You got more stuff than what those numerologists dug up, so kudos for that.”

“Thank you.”

Trixie leans forward and puts her hooves in a steeple, eying him intently. “But I got a question for you.”

Thunderlane shifts a little in his seat. “...Okay.”

“Has a creepy, all black, faceless unicorn been stalking your dreams and forcing you to relive unpleasant memories to give you life lessons?”

Thunderlane blinks. “Um, no. Why?”

Trixie scoffs and throws her hooves down . “Unbelievable. Did you at least see Luna?”

Thunderlane thinks for a moment and remembers when curiosity got the best of him regarding Rumble's comic books a few months back. The revealing position, her flushed, half-lidded eyes and drooling tongue along with the tentacles clutching her in all the right places and rubbing between her shiny flanks certainly did their jobs of stimulating the hormones. He only snaps out of the arousing mental picture when Trixie clears her throat, and that is when he realizes that his wings have decided to expand for a treat they will never get.

“You must've had a pleasant dream,” says Trixie, her tone darkening and her hoof starting to tap the table.

“No, it wasn't a dream!” blurts Thunderlane with a sporadic wave of his hoof. “I didn't see Luna anywhere! I just saw her in a comic I accidentally read!”

“How do you accidentally read a comic that gives you a wing boner?”

“It was lying open and I just... um...”

Trixie's frown becomes a clear signal that she is about to snap, and Thunderlane shifts uncomfortably in his spot while clearing his throat.

“I swear I don't read that stuff,” says Thunderlane meekly, smiling embarrassingly at Trixie as his cheeks flare and his wings defy his commands to stay down. “I... um... I'm sorry, it's a pegasus thing. Sometimes our wings have a mind of their own.”

Trixie downs the last of her beer without taking her glare off of Thunderlane, and when it is empty, she rests the body of the bottle against the table's edge. Thunderlane's eyes flick to the bottle, not liking how she looks ready to smash it into a crude knife. Though, it does convince his wings to go down and as his heart beats faster, his feathers do unconsciously ruffle in preparation for something he hopes to Celestia does not happen.

“Believe me, I've got plenty of experiences with pegasi and their urges,” says Trixie viciously, now tapping her empty bottle against the table. “In fact, to be quite honest with you, there is only one pegasus I actually like, and she's waiting for me outside. So, get out of here right now and take your pervy mind with you before I hurt you.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-”

Trixie smashes the bottle against the table and jabs the crude, jagged weapon at his face, stopping just shy of his eye.

“Jeeze!” shouts Thunderlane frantically as he leaps back in his chair, causing it to fall over and for him to land awkwardly on the floor. He scrambles to his feet and backpedals with his eyes enormous and heart beating like a terrified hummingbird when Trixie stomps towards him, snarling with sparks hopping around her hooves and horn. He takes another step back and holds up his hoof defensively. “What the heck is wrong with you!? I just wanted some help!”

“Either you get out or I'll kick your ass, you pervert!” shouts Trixie.

Rainbow Dash rounds a corner to a near dead hallway lined with framed posters and schedules, looking for Thunderlane with Pinkie Pie hopping next to her. After dealing with the two unicorn guards upfront, though, her mood has been soured, and possibly meeting Trixie is something she is not too thrilled about, either.

“Trixie's office is just down this hall,” says Pinkie Pie. “You won't believe the number of ponies that come by to get her autograph or try to interview her! In fact, just last week she went to one of those comic convention things in one of those San places and posed with a bunch of girls in home made copies of her Mare-Do-Well suit! The whole thing was sold out because of her and it was awesome! Oh, and she got me a figurine of the original Mare-Do-Well made out of colored glass and glow in the dark paint! It was ep-ic!”

“That's nice,” says Rainbow Dash unenthusiastically, stopping for just a moment when she notices that out of all the rooms they passed -501, 502, 503, 504, 506- the room 505 is apparently nonexistent. Shaking her head at the strangeness, she continues walking after Pinkie Pie. “So, you and Trixie must be close, huh?”

“After all we've been through together? Totally. Like fridge magnets,” says Pinkie Pie, unknowing of Rainbow Dash's envious stare, and the grossed out look that follows with her next bubbly toned statement. “In fact, there's even this rumor that says we're closet lovers, like when you and me were in Ponyville! It kinda gets Trixie ticked off when somepony mentions it, but I don't care because the ponies that want us to be lesbians are just desperate for some clop material. Not that I would mind somepony writing a porno of me, you and Trixie getting it on in a lesbian orgy of some kind. I think it'll be funny to read, actually.”

Rainbow Dash ruffles her feathers and her nostrils flare from the hot air being snorted out. “There is no way in hell I'd want to be part of any dyke sex.”

“Even fictional?”

“Especially fictional. Ponies can come up with some pretty messed up stuff. Like diapers and urine drinking and poop on the face.”

Pinkie Pie stops and looks at Rainbow Dash with an amused smile. “Maybe you should stay out of the fetish section next time you go to the adult book store.”

Rainbow Dash's ears and cheeks heat up. “Let's change the subject.”

“Okie dokie loki!” Pinkie Pie starts hoping down the hall again with Rinbow Dash following close behind. “So, this one time, Trixie asked me if I was going to do the Mare-Do-Well thing with her again and I said- Hi Trixie!”

Pinkie Pie stops and waves with a massive grin, and Rainbow Dash stops next to her and sees Trixie briskly limping down the hallway with a sand colored pegasus mare with a braided, red mane struggling to keep up. The pegasus is saying something, but Rainbow Dash is not listening. Instead, her brain has fried at the sight of how huge Trixie has become since she last saw her. Last time she really saw her, she had noticeable muscles, but despite her build, she appeared to be terrified of everything. Now? Now she is a big butch who looks like she is afraid of nothing!

Trixie's muscles look like rocks barely covered by her azure coat, and her purple eyes may have bags under them, but they are anything but weak. She appears to be in a constant state of alert, and while Rainbow Dash notices a slight limp in her walk, she has a feeling that the unicorn might be using it as a ploy to make her opponents lower their guard so she can shatter their faces with her bare hooves!

But, naturally Pinkie Pie does not see a potentially murderous rock golem in pony skin since she jumps towards Trixie with an ear to ear grin.

“Hey, Trixie-Trix, how ya doing?” chirps Pinkie Pie, landing next to the unicorn and wrapping her hoof around her neck for a hug.

Trixie returns the hug, but keeps a threatening eye on Rainbow Dash. In turn, the Element of Loyalty frowns at Trixie and ruffles her feathers slightly. In all actuality, if she didn't know any better, she'd think that Trixie is trying to tell her that Pinkie Pie is her best friend just by the way her hoof is tightening and her gaze is hardening.

Without breaking eye contact with the vibrant pegasus, Trixie says: “I'm doing just peachy, best friend.”

Suspicions confirmed. Rainbow Dash's eye twitches. 'She did not just go there.'

Even the other pegasus gets flicker of pain from Trixie's statement.

“You don't sound peachy. More lemony, actually,” says Pinkie Pie, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between her two friends.

Trixie releases Pinkie Pie, and she sighs and rubs her forehead. “Well, today has been a bad day, with getting hit by a wagon during an attempted bank robbery, Monte and Fancy getting on my case about my pills, and those social service idiots trying to take Braille from me... It's been a really, really bad day, so far.”

Pinkie Pie cringes and steps back. “Well, you did say you would stop all that drug stuff, so I can see why they might be just a little itty bitty mad at you for doing those things.”

Trixie frowns with a flicker of barely contained rage illuminating her eyes. “Yeah, I said I would stop when I was pregnant. I'm not anymore and the pain has not gotten any better, so everypony needs to back off about it.” Trixie looks at Rainbow Dash again for a couple of seconds before looking back at Pinkie Pie. “I've gotta get going. Clockwork wants to take me to a....”

Trixie looks at the sandy pegasus, Clockwork, as do the other two mares, and in all actuality, Rainbow Dash completely forgot that she was there. As for Clockwork, it takes her a few seconds to realize that she has the spotlight, and when she does notice the attention, she looks at each of them, then smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry. I'm going to take Trixie to the Easy Hooves Day Spa before curfew kicks in,” says Clockwork.

“Yeah, that place,” mutters Trixie unenthusiastically.

“She's really nervous about it.” Clockwork wraps a hoof around Trixie and pulls her in for a sympathetic hug, smiling reassuringly at the more visibly nervous unicorn. “But I told her that I would be right next to her the whole time and wouldn't let anything happen to her. Or to the massage therapists in case she flips out about something innocent.”

“Oh, that's a good idea. We don't want you going crazy over a hoof rub, do we Trixie?” says Pinkie Pie, getting a bemused eye roll from Trixie.

“Yeah, yeah, that's nice and all, but before you go get yourself pampered, have you seen a pegasus stallion? Dark coat, a gray, cropped mane and tail. Very reserved,” says Rainbow Dash to Trixie.

Clockwork looks at Trixie uneasily, and the super-heroine raises an eyebrow.

“Is his name Thundercane?” asks Trixie.

Rainbow Dash scowls. “Um, no. His name is Thunderlane.”

Trixie snorts and continues walking. “Yeah, that sounds right, and I did meet him, but I don't think we got along.”

Trixie shoves her way past Rainbow Dash, making the pegasus stumble and growl while rubbing her shoulder. Clockwork trots by and says a quick apology on Trixie's behalf. An apology that Rainbow Dash does not accept.

“If you want to know where he went, I last saw him running towards the bar,” continues the bitchy unicorn.

Rainbow Dash raises a brow slightly and she and Pinkie Pie watch Trixie round the corner.

“Thunderlane doesn't...” begins Rainbow Dash, then her voice drifts off as a horrible thought crosses her mind. “Oh, no.”

“But that's what I'm saying!” says Rainbow Dash as quick as her steps as she and Pinkie Pie round a corner into a crowded bar near the stage where the Magnificent Monte Fountain is performing. “Thunderlane doesn't drink! He hates that stuff, and if he's drinking then Trixie must've been a class A, royal bitch to him!”

Pinkie Pie cringes. “Trixie can be hard to handle, sometimes, but-”

“But nothing! I swear to Celestia, I'm very close to kicking her ass!”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

Rainbow Dash stops and scans the bar, thinking about how she does not need luck to take down Trixie. Sure she looks stronger than the last time they met, but she's got military training and speed on her side whereas Trixie has a lot of glorified bar fights and a flashy cape.

Seconds later, Rainbow Dash sees Thunderlane sulking in the back, isolated from a group of jocks wearing jerseys and talking obnoxiously about some obscure hoofball game. He is staring at an empty cup in front of him with no shred of happiness in his features, and nearby, a unicorn bartender puts away a half empty, eight liter bottle of vodka. That does not sit well with Rainbow Dash at all.

“C'mon,” she says to Pinkie Pie, nudging her on the shoulder and pointing to Thunderlane.

Pinkie Pie nods and the two mares quickly approach Thunderlane, who has yet to notice the world around him or the ponies that inhabit it. Even when the two mares are next to him, he is oblivious to their presence.

“Thunderlane, how drunk are you? Scale of one to ten,” says Rainbow Dash quickly.

“Huh?” says Thunderlane, looking at Rainbow Dash dumbly, caught completely off guard by her and Pinkie Pie's appearance.

“You gotta be a ten by now! How many faces do I have?”

“...Is this a trick question?”

“Relax, all he had was chocolate milk and a whole lot of celery sticks,” says the bartender as he takes Thunderlane's dirty cup and plate with his magic.

“What!?” Rainbow Dash grabs Thunderlane and spins him so his orbs encased an endless void of depression can meet her fiery eyes. “You go to a bar and drown your sorrows in chocolate milk!? What's wrong with you!?”

“Drowning sorrows in chocolate milk...” hums Pinkie Pie. She then pulls out a random notepad and pen from her mane and scribbles something down, smirking without taking the pen out of her mouth when she's done. “Another thing for my bucket list!”

Not paying any mind to Pinkie Pie, Thunderlane shrugs. “I hate alcohol and they said their chocolate milk was almost expired. So I decided to help them out and drank a whole gallon of it.” Thunderlane sighs and deflates in Rainbow Dash's hooves. “It's the least I can do in this miserable existence.”

Rainbow Dash glares at the bartender. “You actually let him drink a gallon of near expired chocolate milk?”

The bartender grins and gives Thunderlane another glass of chocolate milk. “Hey, it wasn't expired. Besides, he did help me quite a bit with how much he paid, and its one less thing for me to inventory. Here's another one, buddy.”

“Thanks,” grumbles Thunderlane.

His hoof extends to grab his chocolate beverage, but Rainbow Dash frowns and pushes the drink away, which Pinkie Pie takes and drinks in one gulp, much to the bartender's surprise. His surprise then changes to worry when Pinkie Pie gets a very strange, scrunched up face.

“I'm taking you home,” says Rainbow Dash, tugging on Thunderlane's shoulder.

“But what if I want to wallow in this bar like a proper stallion?” counters Thunderlane as he braces himself on the counter. He frowns and slams his face on the bar, prompting Rainbow Dash's eyes to nearly fly off her face. “Never mind. Real stallions like beer. Real stallions love getting trashed and real Hurricanes don't 'wallow'. Hurricanes bottle everything up. Hurricanes are robots. I'm a terrible robo-stallion.”

Rainbow Dash looks at Pinkie Pie worryingly, but her friend is too busy analyzing the taste with loud smacks, hums and exaggerated eye rolls.

“I think this milk is be expired,” says Pinkie Pie. “Can I see that jug?”

The bartender shifts uneasily in his spot, eyes darting everywhere but at Pinkie Pie and her scrutinizing stare.

“You mean like right now?” asks the bartender.

Pinkie Pie jabs her hoof at him. “Don't make me climb over there."

“I feel sick,” moans Thunderlane.

“You did just drink a whole gallon of chocolate milk,” points out Rainbow Dash. She sighs and gently forces Thunderlane to stand up, and she keeps him steady with one wing over his back and a hoof against his barrel. “C'mon, let's get you home.”

It is at that moment that Pinkie Pie is given the jug and she takes a one second peek at the plastic container. That one second is all she needs for her content look to break down in a vengeful, wrinkled face of Tirek-spawn rage. The bartender gulps, then yelps when Laughter throws the jug of two week old chocolate milk at his nose.

“You're in so much trouble, mister!” scolds Pinkie Pie.

Thunderlane's face starts turning green and a sickly, rolling sound of chunky, sloshy liquid comes from his stomach as his eyes become distant and his legs wobbly. While this happens, Pinkie Pie demands to see the manager, which only goes down a snowy hill on a greased sled when the bartender admits to being the one in charge.

Rainbow Dash, however, pays no mind to Pinkie Pie or the stallion that got Thunderlane sick. Instead, she is focused on Thunderlane, seething and wrinkling her nose as he tilts dangerously far to falling over.

“On second thought, let's get you to a bathroom first.”